When Ray wakes, the storm has abated.
He coughs the sea from his lungs, pushing himself up off the sand, the waves licking at his bare toes.
A lyrical voice coils across the sands. “I heard a rumour, that you didn’t struggle.”
He relaxes despite himself, even as he glances across and spots her.
A glorious siren, with dark curls, chocolate skin and a sleek, seal-like tail. She’s poised over the whimpering form of his crewmate Patrick, a sly, seductive smile gracing her lips as she strokes a hand down his cheek.
“Yes, a wonderful feast for my little Claire.”